I trace the pattern of the wallpaper
In my grandparents’ guest room
I always have the bed on the side of the door
Tucked in between the wall and the dresser
Low on the floor, I have my fort around my head
And I am facing Mum and Dad in the double
The pattern is more of a story really
Woodland creatures and vines cuddle each other
Cosily, imitating the books I have just been reading
Stories about hibernating mammals
And fairies with strangely innocent values
Compared to my usual monster friends


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